


Blue Christmas

by Deansimpallagrl, WuvWinchesterHugs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Christmas Angst, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deansimpallagrl/pseuds/Deansimpallagrl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WuvWinchesterHugs/pseuds/WuvWinchesterHugs
Summary: Sam's never really been able to get into Christmas.





	Blue Christmas

Dean can’t stop himself. Christmas music plays on his phone as he starts setting up the real tree he just dragged in the bunker. He's always dreamed of having a place they could call home, so he could have a real Christmas, and now they do. He's been doing little things like stringing garland on the stair railing and silly lights that play Christmas music. He even started baking cookies, fudge, and pies in between decorating. Dean's been so busy, he keeps missing the frowns and grumpy noises Sam’s been making every time he's noticed the new stuff all around the bunker. 

Sam’s been avoiding Dean at all costs just so he won't freak out and blow up at him. Sam has never really been able to get into Christmas. He learned the truth about evil around a fateful Christmas. He refuses to let go of his frustration and sadness. He wanted to be normal more than anything and when he learned why his family was different, it broke him just a little more inside. He also blamed it on Christmas itself and its traditions that made him learn the truth. It wasn’t really Christmas that did it, just the nature of his age and curiosity. Logically, he knows that it's not really Christmas that's upsetting him. However, their only other celebration of Christmas was before Dean went to Hell and that might've just ruined it permanently. At the time, he'd tried his best to make Dean happy, but this time around, he just can’t bring himself to enjoy the spirit of the season.

As Dean sets up the tree and sings along to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Sam just can't do it anymore. He slams down the book he was reading.

“Dean I don’t understand why you're bothering with all this. This holiday is stupid, and we haven’t really celebrated it in years.” Sam’s shoulders are tense, expecting a fight.

“Whoa there, Sammy. Chill out. This is a jolly zone, from here to Christmas, so have a cookie or two and sit down.” Dean hands him a Santa cookie and Sam sits down in a chair in a huff.

“Sam, I really don’t know where this is coming from. I know the one we did before I went downstairs was traumatic, but come on! We're finally in an actual home now, where we're SUPPOSED to do stuff like this. I don’t see what else you could be upset about.” Dean eats a cookie as he watches Sam and sees the anger still burning in his eyes.

“You don’t know what the problem is? Really?! You’ve been running around here acting like everything should be happy and normal. WE’RE NOT NORMAL DEAN! We've been ignoring cases and you have been way too busy to even bother looking. The world needs us, and we can’t ignore it just because you want to play homemaker.” Sam crushes the cookie in his fist in anger, then stands up abruptly and throws it on the floor. He storms out of the room and slams his door. 

The hurt look on Dean’s face eats away at him, because no matter how angry he is right now, he doesn't want to make Dean feel bad, just stop him from doing all this for what looks like no reason. He turns off his light and attempts to nod off. The music cuts off at some point, followed by the door to the bunker slamming shut. But Sam's not worried. When Dean's pissed, he goes on a walk to sort himself out. Then he hears the engine roar and realizes Dean’s headed off to drink away his troubles. Sam sighs as his anger finally fades, and as sleep pulls him under, he makes a wish out loud. “I wish we'd never moved into this fucking bunker.”

Horrible dreams of monsters and blood plague his mind, and when Sam finally wakes up, first thing he realizes is that something doesn't feel right. Sam sits up in a dark room with moonlight streaming through the curtains. Wait a minute. Curtains? He doesn’t have curtains in the bunker. Sam turns on a light and heads to the bathroom to splash water on his face. When he looks in the mirror he screams and backs up against the door. The reflection in the mirror is a middle-aged man that is most decidedly NOT Sam. He has tanned skin, blonde hair, ice blue eyes and a scruffy beard. He's a little shorter than he’s used to and as his gaze goes lower, naked. 

Naturally, his mind goes into overdrive trying to figure out what the hell happened. He almost feels like he's possessing some poor bastard, but he can’t feel another soul or hear a voice. 

Sam decides to get dressed and figure out where the hell he is. He finds a suitcase and gets dressed, looking for an ID in the pants on the floor, and finds a wallet. A look at the enclosed ID assures Sam he's still in the area in Kansas and the license says the body he's in belongs to Mark Mattheson. No other information is in the suitcase, so he's still clueless as to why he's here. He remembers Dean leaving the bunker, and if he turns out to be close enough to the bar Dean likes, maybe he can find him and work this out. 

He fishes out some keys and finds a powder blue prius, rolling his eyes as he gets inside and starts it up. He drives to the local dive and sees the Impala in the parking lot and sighs. He hopes Dean won’t be too pissed and can help him get out of this mess.

Dean’s downing his third shot and getting a good buzz going. He’s not doing his usual routine of chatting up the bartender or looking at anyone. He can’t believe that Sam hates his Christmas decorating. He knows once he gets obsessed he can be kind of annoying about it, but this is supposed to be a happy time, for BOTH of them. Sam was so angry, and Dean really doesn’t understand. He's doing this all for Sam. He loves him so much and he only wants to pamper him with all kinds of goodies and a happy home. Dean’s so busy beating himself up he doesn’t even notice the handsome blonde that takes up the seat next to him. The man nudges his shoulder and is about to speak when Dean snaps.

“Hey buddy, knock it off. I am so not in the mood.” Dean's faced away looking at the bar, so he doesn’t see the expression of curiosity on the strangers face.

“Bad night? I don’t want to bother you, but can I buy you a drink?” Sam realizes he has a rare opportunity to pick Dean’s brain without starting a fight. He might get more information than he would as himself.

“I guess so. I had a fight with someone important to me. I'll take a drink, but don’t go expecting anything else.” Dean motions for the bartender and orders another shot and a beer on the stranger. Just from their brief interactions, he can't deny there's something weirdly familiar about this guy.

“I just want to make up for invading your personal space. I can lend a friendly ear if you need it.” Sam knows if he sits and keeps pumping drinks in Dean, he'll spill his guts.

Dean looks at this stranger and sees the truth in his eyes. He sighs and drinks a few more before he finally feels up to saying anything.

“I have this little brother that I’ve had to watch out for all our lives, alright? We were always on the road traveling with our dad and staying in motels. Holidays weren’t really celebrated in our family growing up. So this year, I'm actually enjoying decorating and baking for the holiday in a place we finally get to call ours, and Sammy’s not happy. That's my little brother’s name. Earlier today, he yelled at me for all the decorations I'd just put up. I guess I was so caught up in what I wanted to do I never considered how he felt. I just wanted to treat him to something special.” Dean’s close to tears as he takes another sip of his beer. He doesn't want to hurt Sammy, ever.

“Wow that's a lot of pressure you put on yourself. I have to ask though, what's the difference between decorating a motel room and an actual home?” Sam is curious, but he can see how upset Dean is and it tugs at his heartstrings.

Dean turns to look at this stranger because the question sounds oddly like something Sam would say. He puts on his you are a moron look and stares.

“We've never really had a home to do all the normal traditional stuff everyone else does, at least not until now. I can't even tell you how long I've been dying to get us a place of our own. I know Sammy's always wanted a home, even if he won’t admit it. He doesn’t remember the home we lived in before our mom died. I do, and I just wanted him to feel like I did there. He had to grow up too damn fast. I just want to give him everything that was taken away from him. His favorite cookie has always been oatmeal raisin. I hate them, but I would always do whatever I could to get them for him. Now that I have a kitchen, I make every excuse I can to make them for him. But I won't stop there. No, I want to make all the goodies, with so much butter they’re heavenly, almost heart attack worthy. I want to shower him with every wonderful happy thing I can think of. I just want to give him everything and I don’t know how to do that when he's so mad.” Dean looks away and his voice breaks as a tear falls. He just can’t understand it at all, but he will throw everything out of the bunker if it's hurting Sammy that much.

Sam turns away too as he lets his own tear fall. His heart broke hearing that. Sam was so set on rejecting this new home they'd found, because he was so scared they were gonna lose it. Nothing has ever really been permanent for them, and he doesn’t want yet another thing he loves to be taken away from him. He never thought about what Dean wanted, let alone that he wanted it all for Sam. He wipes his tear away and pats Dean on the shoulder.

“I am sorry about your troubles buddy. Hope the drinks helped. Unfortunately, I really need to take off. Happy holidays.” Sam drops some bills on the bar top and almost runs out of the bar. He needs to work fast if he wants to make this up to Dean.

Dean looks after the stranger and shrugs. He needs a few more drinks before he can head back and start the work of tearing everything down.

Dean is kind of drunk when he stumbles home and he sees Sam walking to the kitchen.

“Hey, just so you know, I'm taking all this down tomorrow when I sober up.” Dean is weaving and slurring, and he's still incredibly sad, despite pouring his heart out to a complete stranger. He wishes he didn’t have to take this all down.

“Dean, no. I've decided. I actually want it to stay. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.” He has no clue why he just said that, but somewhere, he knows it's true. Sam's incredibly sleepy, and hopes that by morning Dean will forget it all so they can pretend the fight never happened. 

“Whatever. Bed. Need bed.” Dean wanders over to faceplant on his bed and start snoring.

Sam shakes his head and gets some water before heading back to bed. He loves Dean so much, but sometimes Dean gets carried away.

Meanwhile, Sam/Mark, has a plan. He wants to surprise Dean with baked goodies, but he needs time to get the stuff, so he can bake in the motel he woke up in. He went out last night and got the ingredients and a cheap cookie sheet as well as other baking tools. Dean had given him tips and some baking lessons from time to time, so he didn’t have much trouble. He decided to put together his favorite, oatmeal raisin, and chocolate chip, which he knew was Dean’s. He enjoyed the baking and it wasn’t long until the smells turned heavenly, just like he's heard Dean promise they would be. Once they were cooled, he had plenty of cookies to go around. He put them in plastic bags and then in a Christmas basket, resulting in a festive and beautiful presentation. He headed back to the bar, hoping to catch Dean there.

 

This was the only way Cass could teach Sam a lesson without alerting Dean to the issue and prompting him to jump all over him. Cass has always tried to take the time to listen to the boys and keep watch over the both of them. When he heard Sam’s wish, instead of granting it, he decided to try and help by doing this, in hopes that Sam would take the bait and attempt to fix things. Then he can be put back where he belongs and more than likely won’t question it. Basically what he did was halve Sam's soul, putting half in Mark, leaving the other half with Sam. He's not completely without feeling, like he would be if his soul was completely gone. The part of Sam that remembers the heart-to-heart is in Mark, whereas the part inside Sam only remembers the fight. If Mark/Sam has a change of heart, Sam will as well, but Sam doesn't know why, not until the halves of his soul are reunited.

 

Dean and Sam spend the next day completely avoiding each other. Dean was still hurt that his efforts had been rejected, so he just avoided Sam and stopped all the other decorating. Finally, he decided to go back to the bar since Sam clearly didn't want to hang out with him anyway. He knocked on Sam’s door and said he'd be back later. Sam rolls his eyes, knowing what Dean was going to do, but decided being silent was for the best. Sam didn’t want to spark another fight, but what he'd also failed to mention was how he was quickly sinking into a pit of sadness and not looking forward to Christmas at all.

Dean plunks down on the same stool and nods to the bartender. He frequents the bar often enough to where they bring him the same thing anytime they see him walk in. As he waits, he sees a familiar blonde head out of the corner of his eye. He turns as Sam/Mark sits down and smiles. 

“Hey there, I thought I might find you here. I have a gift for you.” Sam/Mark beams at Dean’s confused face. He hands the Christmas basket to Dean, holding his breath.

“Uh, thanks. Why?” Dean smells the cookie goodness and feels simultaneously weirded out and confused.

“Well after you told me about your problems, I thought you could use some cheering up, so I wanted to help. I also included your brother’s favorite too so you can share. Happy Holidays!” Sam/Mark blushed, hoping Dean will just drink and stop trying to work out the problem. Just then, the bartender brings Dean’s usual and by the time he was done downing his shot Sam/Mark had already slipped away, heading back to the motel room. He's still not sure what the hell’s going on, and since Dean didn’t seem panicked while he was there, it's safe to say he's not an astral projection. But despite that, he feels good, hoping his little gesture will raise Dean’s spirits, even just a little. As he lays down and slips off to sleep, he hopes that he'll be able to make it up to Dean back in his own body.

Dean drinks for a bit longer to get another buzz going, but weirdly, he's actually kind of excited to get home to Sam and show him the basket of cookies given to him out of kindness from a complete stranger, for the holidays. He feels like he already knew the guy, and he didn’t even bother to ask his name. 

When Dean finally gets home, his basket is a few cookies lighter, and he feels happier than he has in a while. He is whistles as he comes down the stairs. He heads to the kitchen to store the cookies and sees a complete mess. Sam must have cooked and decided to not do the dishes. This strikes Dean as very odd, but he just rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

Sam opens his eyes and stretches, feeling sleepy. He looks around and happily realizes he’s back in his body in the bunker. He sits up, excited. He’s back and so glad that he had the chance to connect with Dean in a way he hasn’t before. He leaps up, hoping to find Dean in the bunker. He runs out and hears dishes being washed in the kitchen. As he walks in, Dean turns to him with a frown.

“Well, I see you can’t clean up after yourself anymore. Not to worry, Princess, I finished just fine by myself.” Dean picks up the towel to dry his hands when he suddenly feels Sam grab him in a bear hug. Dean reluctantly hugs back, annoyed, until he hears a sob and feels a wetness on his shoulder. He rubs Sam’s back and runs his fingers through his hair, confused.

“Sammy?” Dean doesn’t know why all the mood swings but, fighting or not, he just wants Sam to be ok.

“I take so many things for granted Dean. I don’t tell you enough how much you mean to me. I was so selfish about this Christmas stuff. You and I know each other better than anyone else. You know my favorite cookies and try to make things special just for me, and I never even thank you for any of it. I love you. And thank you, Dean, for being the best big brother and the love of my life. I hope you can forgive me. I really want us to do this Christmas in style. I think we can get things even more festive before the big day! We have 36 hours and some leftover change, so whaddya say we get some sleep and get on it in the morning?” Sam hugs Dean and in that moment, that's all that matters.

They wake up and spend every waking moment together, enjoying all the little things they haven't been able to. They share a shower, scrubbing each other clean, and dry each other off. They bake and cook together, a few times Sam slipped behind Dean so he could hug him from behind while they waited, but always, they made sure to have a wonderful meal, be it breakfast lunch or dinner. They decorate and talk about the old days and how dad tried his best to make things festive. They laughed about the eggnog Sam made way too strong, and of course Dean calls him out on it, accusing Sam of doing it on purpose to make him gag. Sam laughs, but doesn't deny it.

Finally, on Christmas day, they sit down to watch their favorite Christmas movie, Die Hard. This is just the beginning of their very own Christmas tradition, and truly, they couldn't be happier. They've put the fight behind them in favor of wrapping themselves in a cocoon of holiday bliss, and come what may, they will carry these memories to keep them warm.


End file.
